The boatman’s fist landed on the point of his
critic’s jaw and dropped him stunned upon the
heaped merchandise. Not content with this summary
act he proceeded to follow his fist into the other
craft. The miner nearest him tugged vigorously
at a revolver which had jammed in its shiny leather
holster, while his brother argonauts, laughing, waited
the outcome. But the canoe was under way again,
and the Indian helmsman drove the point of his paddle
into the boatman’s chest and hurled him backward
into the bottom of the Whitehall.

When the flood of oaths and blasphemy was at full
tide, and violent assault and quick death seemed most
imminent, the first officer had stolen a glance at
the girl by his side. He had expected to find
a shocked and frightened maiden countenance, and was
not at all prepared for the flushed and deeply interested
face which met his eyes.

“I am sorry,” he began.

But she broke in, as though annoyed by the interruption,
“No, no; not at all. I am enjoying it
every bit. Though I am glad that man’s
revolver stuck. If it had not—­”

“We might have been delayed in getting ashore.”
The first officer laughed, and therein displayed his
tact.

“That man is a robber,” he went on, indicating
the boatman, who had now shoved his oars into the
water and was pulling alongside. “He agreed
to charge only twenty dollars for putting you ashore.
Said he’d have made it twenty-five had it been
a man. He’s a pirate, mark me, and he
will surely hang some day. Twenty dollars for
a half-hour’s work! Think of it!”

“Easy, sport! Easy!” cautioned the
fellow in question, at the same time making an awkward
landing and dropping one of his oars over-side.
“You’ve no call to be flingin’ names
about,” he added, defiantly, wringing out his
shirt-sleeve, wet from rescue of the oar.

“You’ve got good ears, my man,”
began the first officer.

“And a quick fist,” the other snapped
in.

“And a ready tongue.”

“Need it in my business. No gettin’
’long without it among you sea-sharks.
Pirate, am I? And you with a thousand passengers
packed like sardines! Charge ’em double
first-class passage, feed ’em steerage grub,
and bunk ’em worse ’n pigs! Pirate,
eh! Me?”

A red-faced man thrust his head over the rail above
and began to bellow lustily.

“I want my stock landed! Come up here,
Mr. Thurston! Now! Right away! Fifty
cayuses of | mine eating their heads off in this dirty
kennel of yours, and it’ll be a sick time you’ll
have if you don’t hustle them ashore as fast
as God’ll let you! I’m losing a thousand
dollars a day, and I won’t stand it! Do
you hear? I won’t stand it! You’ve
robbed me right and left from the time you cleared
dock in Seattle, and by the hinges of hell I won’t
stand it any more! I’ll break this company
as sure as my name’s Thad Ferguson! D’ye
hear my spiel? I’m Thad Ferguson, and
you can’t come and see me any too quick for
your health! D’ye hear?”